


shut up and dance with me

by sungchanery



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, M/M, Roommates, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23373508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungchanery/pseuds/sungchanery
Summary: because seonghwa would tiptoe around yeosang for days and days more, if he knew he would end up walking along with him like this in the end.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	shut up and dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> two fics????? in almost a week???? who is she????
> 
> truth is i have the best people to serve me with loads of inspiration lately, and i couldn't be more thankful <3 to atiny gc, thank you bros, ur making me so happy and ur making the gears in my brain fiiiiinally move after SUCH a long time. 
> 
> this is a gift for my friend mi, bro, ur so sexc, happy birthday, this is for you. bask in the seongsang glory as u deserve <3 smooch 
> 
> hope u enjoy 
> 
> LOVE YALL LOTS !!!!

Seonghwa takes a while to find his keys in the mess of his bag and, honestly, this is so unlike him it irritates him a little. When did everything become so  _ messy _ ? This job, amidst all his essays loomingly reaching their deadline, the dishes in the sink starting to pile up dangerously and his parents nagging him that he should be done soon with everything, that he takes so much  _ time _ , even when, in reality, he’s just pushing through everything the best he can, seems too much for him right now. 

He sighs, this is excessive, he was just trying to find his keys, for god’s sake. He can hear music from inside the apartment and because of his already sensitive mood, he doesn’t think he will maintain his cool if he sees Wooyoung, his roommate’s best friend, jumping around the apartment like he has fucking springs on his feet. He tells himself that the reason behind this is Wooyoung's purely loud presence, but he knows it's a lie, because something suspiciously resembling jealousy is coiling in his stomach whenever he sees him being too close to the boy he lives with. He  _ finally  _ finds the keys, slotting the right one in the keyhole and he sighs once again, trying to let the heavy load of thoughts and stress from work right there on their “You Shall Not Pass” doormat, hoping that they will, in fact, not pass in the house, letting him relax for once in what feels like months. 

  
  


What he finds happening inside, though, makes every muscle on his body tense, more than any part time job or unwashed dish would. 

  
  


The music, he processes slowly, wasn’t being played by Wooyoung. In fact, Wooyoung isn’t here, and he really isn’t his concern right now, not with what he sees in front of him, eyes glued and attention undivided. 

Yeosang, his for three years now roommate and, admittedly, for three years now secret crush is in their living room, slowly dancing to some sexy, low, rnb song he can’t really pinpoint right now, eyes closed as if he hadn’t even noticed him coming in. And, that wouldn’t normally be a problem, given that Yeosang is a dance major and Seonghwa usually finds him dancing around the apartment, airpods on and moves practiced, trying to perfect whatever dance routine he would have to perform for his next dance class. But now, that doesn’t seem to be the case. He looks around even though it’s physically  _ too  _ hard to take his eyes off Yeosang right now, and he can see what Yeosang has been up to when his brain connects the puzzle pieces. Vodka bottle from their last party on the table almost empty, some snacks half eaten in their wrappers and bags, the tv still open and muted playing Yeosang’s favorite crackhead show, the one they use with Wooyoung to take shots every time a character is doing something really stupid and predictable. Seonghwa really doesn’t need more clues to figure out that Yeosang is  _ drunk _ , doing all these and being out of character completely out of sheer tipsiness. 

The realisation almost makes him crack up a tired smile but he still can’t move, his brain still trying to process Yeosang’s state completely, because even when drunk, he really shouldn’t be walking around looking like _this._ He’s wearing a shirt, button down, white and honestly too big for his little frame and narrow shoulders, the first two (three? Seonghwa can’t really think about it right now, it’s taking his breath away and his braincells need oxygen in order to _work_ ) buttons left unbuttoned letting the shirt slide beautifully on Yeosang’s tan shoulders, revealing smooth skin and sharp collarbones, making Seonghwa gulp down a huge lust shaped knot in his throat. His eyes move south and he sees more of that delicious skin there, Yeosang’s legs bare, toned from his years of dancing but still slim and pretty, moving carelessly in semi-practiced, semi-instinctive, drunken dance moves, his bare feet almost tripping on the carpet, making Yeosang release a tipsy little giggle that makes Seonghwa’s heart pang hard and shake him out of his reverie, a small gasp slipping out of his lips.

That works, apparently, and bursts Yeosang’s bubble as well, the boy abruptly stopping his dancing to finally look at Seonghwa’s direction, head just tilting to the side in a puppy like manner, the boy’s hair following the motion and flopping on top of his head. 

“Seonghwa-hyung? Hyung!”

It seems like it takes him a second to recognize him in this state, but when he does, the corners of his mouth start rising in such an innocent grin, even though it seems impossible for something to look so innocent in this context to Seonghwa. He still can’t react. It must be the seeming impossibility of it that perplexes him. 

“You’re kinda late? I think,” Yeosang keens and slowly walks towards him, stumbling almost, until he stops in front of him, the few centimeters that he has in height more than Yeosang making the boy look up at him, his lips hanging a bit open, glistening from the alcohol. Seonghwa can  _ almost _ taste it, he wishes he could. “You shouldn’t come home late. I am always hungry after ten, you know that, and I can’t order alone.” 

He turns a bit, lifting his hand to point at the unfinished snacks on the table. “I ate these instead. Ate yours too,” he then turns again to look at Seonghwa and, at Seonghwa’s surprise, he  _ pouts.  _ “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

_ It doesn’t matter at all,  _ Seonghwa thinks and opens his mouth to say it but no voice comes out, eyes still on Yeosang, too taken aback still. He doesn’t like unplanned things, he has a low tolerance for surprises, and this seems like the biggest one anyone could ever pull at him. Yeosang has the audacity to pout more. 

“Why aren’t you talking to me?! Are you mad? I said sorry,” he complains, poking on Seonghwa’s chest with a little more power than needed. It makes Seonghwa step back, hand reaching out on the wall to steady himself, even though it was practically nothing. He’s just as light as a piece of paper right now. Justifiably so. 

Yeosang sees this as a chance to wrap his arms around Seonghwa in an attempt to steady him himself, but in reality, he just buries his face in Seonghwa’s chest and grins drunkenly, maintaining the hug as if this was his purpose all along. And it was, probably, or, Seonghwa just wants it to be. Why would Yeosang want to hug him, though? He’s a friend, sure, but he’s not Wooyoung. He’s...him. Just a friendly roommate. Right? 

“Sorry. Again. Hehet,” he giggles in pure Yeosang fashion, his signature giggle that everyone around him knows and loves, and now  _ that  _ makes Seonghwa break and smile. He can’t resist giggly Yeosang. It’s a fatal weakness, and he’s full of it. “Can you let me make it up to you?”

He looks up, chin on Seonghwa’s chest and eyes bigger than Seonghwa has ever seen them, pleading almost. 

“Make it up to me? What thing? I’m not mad, Yeosangie,” he manages to let out with a hoarser than usual voice; letting his voice trapped in took its toll on him, he guesses. But Yeosang doesn’t seem convinced by that, not at all. He pushes his chin on the spot between his ribs and Seonghwa flinches a bit, frowning, his brows furrowing in what he knows it’s Yeosang’s favorite expression of him, or, to put it more accurately, the one that amuses him the most. 

“You are. Just...just follow me. Okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

He expects to be pulled, but, he doesn’t expect Yeosang to step on his feet with his bare own, letting Seonghwa carry all his weight, his arms moving to wrap around the man’s neck instead of his waist, tight. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, not knowing if Yeosang wants them on him, but Yeosang has his whole body pressed on Seonghwa right now, everything of him just blindly trusted on Seonghwa to hold. He still doesn’t touch, though. It’s his thing. He just  _ can’t,  _ not without knowing that Yeosang wants it. 

But Yeosang  _ whines,  _ head leaving Seonghwa’s chest to glare at him,  _ too  _ close to his face he can smell the alcohol and the chocolate in his breath. “Hyung. How are we supposed to dance if you don’t hold me?”

Huh. “We’re...you want us to dance?”

“Duh? There’s music. And I’m wrapped like this around you. This is a dance position.”

“I-is it, now?”

“I’m the dancer, aren’t I? I know stuff.  _ Hold me,  _ hyung. And,” he grins another killer smile, “you’re the one who will dance for us. Don’t lemme fall on my ass. Please?” 

Honestly? It’s too much. Too much for Seonghwa to handle. He needs to take a damn breather. But Yeosang doesn’t leave him space to do so. He just whines and asks for things in this drunk state and Seonghwa, poor, weak, too damn into him Seonghwa can’t say no. Who is he to say no to Kang Yeosang? He entertains the thought that nobody, ever, has said “no” to Yeosang as he brings his arms around the boy’s waist, and oh. Was Yeosang always this soft? This lean? This...perfect to hold? Why hasn’t Seonghwa done this earlier? Yeosang lets his head lie on Seonghwa’s chest again and giggles when Seonghwa holds him tighter than he thought he would, sending vibrations all over Seonghwa’s body, chills down his spine, exploiting his weakness devilishly. Because this is what Kang Yeosang is, in all his glory. A merciless devil trapped in the perfectly sculpted body of an angel. 

The song conveniently changes into a much slower one, Spotify conspiring against Seonghwa in the most apparent way, and Yeosang squirms a bit, showing him that this is his que to start dancing. He takes the first step, then the next, and then he finds himself too deep into this to stop. 

His feet move on their own accord to the soft, sensual song, and he never knew he had it in him, to dance like this, in the middle of his own living room in a weekday evening, holding the person that makes his own heart dance in its own rib cage shaped room, the words he has for him tiptoeing along with them, still left unsaid. But does he need them? When Yeosang is leaning against him like this, the brush of his lips against his neck really not seeming involuntary anymore, his hand shyly starting to card in Seonghwa’s hair, too lost in the moment and in the haze of his brain to care if he’s being too forward. Seonghwa feels that Yeosang wouldn’t be subtle anyways. Yeosang is so unabashedly  _ him,  _ and maybe that’s why Seonghwa has fallen for him. 

When Yeosang stops brushing his lips and starts  _ kissing  _ Seonghwa’s neck, though, Seonghwa except for metaphorically, quite literally falls for him too.  _ With him,  _ as he loses every balance he was struggling to maintain anyways with the boy’s whole weight on him, stumbling until his knees hit the back of the armchair closer to them, both him and Yeosang falling inevitably on top of each other. Seonghwa’s back will be complaining in the morning, he can feel it in his bones. Quite literally, once again.

“Imagine if I had told you to  _ not  _ lemme fall on my ass,” Yeosang hisses, scrambling to bring himself up, face scrunched up as his legs part for his knees to rest on the sides of Seonghwa’s hips, sitting there as if he isn’t sending Seonghwa to overdrive once again with it. 

But this time, Seonghwa knows what to do with his hands. He lets himself touch, thinking that he can,  _ knowing  _ that he can, because he can still feel the kiss Yeosang managed to sneak on him, lip shaped wet traces on his jugular feeling cold. He  _ knows  _ Yeosang wants this. And he more than enough affirms it when he feels Yeosang shiver for a moment because of Seonghwa’s always cold palms on his warm, bare thighs, his hands running from his chest to the boy’s neck, to wrap around him again like before. 

“You took the hint,  _ finally _ ,” he’s cocky enough to say against Seonghwa’s face, a kitten smirk forming on his angelic face, a really hot contrast that’s making Seonghwa’s chest fire up with bottled up lust. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to find out, hyung.”

“What do you mean  _ forever _ ? I know that’s not true, Yeosang,” he grazes his nails on the bare skin, moving to Yeosang’s hipbones, pushing him down on his thighs fully, his ass flush against the tent of his pants that is growing bigger as they spoke. “What have you done...except for stealing my shirts without me knowing?” He knows now, that this shirt is his. He knows from the collar button being a little different from the others, his personal addition when he accidentally tore it off during a morning he was late for work. Yeosang is too close for him to not notice that, because Seonghwa is really,  _ really,  _ attentive, and Yeosang is well aware of that. That’s why he is full of bullshit right now, because there is no way in Hell Seonghwa wouldn’t have noticed Yeosang’s interest. 

“Okay, maybe...maybe it wasn’t that obvious. But I  _ tried _ , hyung, I really did,” Yeosang mutters, hips rolling once to feel Seonghwa up, making him claw on his hipbones tighter. “I made that candy for you. The one you like, with the strawberries. And…”

“That,” lump of sugar, Seonghwa wants to say, but he never likes to invalidate Yeosang’s efforts. Not when he knows that he tried. The candy still tasted like pure saccharin, though. “What else did you do, hm?” he says instead, hands urging Yeosang to continue, to move on him again as he pleases. 

“I, uh, I...I kissed Wooyoung.” 

Seonghwa fucking scoffs. “How creative.” 

“It was when you were home! I knew...I knew you could hear. I wanted you to,” Yeosang blushes, and he never blushes like that, not when he just says whatever he wants with pure bluntness. He moves his hips in a rhythm, Seonghwa’s hands as leverage, his lips parting to let out a small soundless moan just too close to Seonghwa’s lips. “I...it was dumb. But I wanted it to work. Did it work, hyung?” And he looks at him so earnestly, as if he really believed that would work. As if he really thought that he was capable of driving Seonghwa batshit crazy. 

“It...it would work. It would really work.” Seonghwa tries to say as steady as he can, his lips brushing on Yeosang’s as he mumbles his next sentence. “If I wasn’t already too damn crazy for you.” 

The crash of lips is nothing like the gentle, soft pecks Seonghwa is always dreaming of giving Yeosang behind remote library shelves. No, it isn’t like that  _ at all,  _ not when Yeosang sucks on his lip like he was waiting all his life to do it, his lips slotting between Seonghwa’s own, moving fervently in the most heated kiss Seonghwa has ever been given up until now, his hands running on Yeosang’s sides under his button up, feeling him up whole, burning. Yeosang’s hips are now dragging harder on his and he can  _ feel  _ how hard this is making him, the boy’s hard on rubbing on his abdomen, nothing but mere underwear and shirt fabric dividing them. Seonghwa kisses like a big wave, patiently building up and hitting all at once, while Yeosang licks and nibbles on his now reddened lips like smaller, continuous ones, hitting the shore again and again, not even once letting it dry up, greedy. Yeosang is  _ greedy.  _ And he’s lucky, so, so lucky that Seonghwa loves to give. 

“Not  _ enough _ ,” Yeosang whispers, tugging on Seonghwa’s lip with his teeth, staring at him with hooded eyes, making Seonghwa dig his nails into the skin of his waist, leaving crescent like nail dents. “Lemme just-” he cuts himself from talking more, getting off Seonghwa just to settle between his legs on his knees, looking thoroughly kissed and too determined. Not that Seonghwa would deny him anything right now. Not in a million years.

“Lemme really make it up to you, hyung,” he looks up as his hands blindly try to get Seonghwa out of his pants and underwear, failing a few times and making Seonghwa breathe out a chuckle because of the boy’s impatience before everything is finally off of him, Yeosang’s eyes moving on Seonghwa’s hard, precome leaking cock, back on his stomach, staining his shirt. Seonghwa would care about that, he really would, but Yeosang’s hand wraps around the base of it and his tongue laps on the precome beads, and Seonghwa can’t bring himself to think about anything else right now. Yeosang’s mouth is sinful, as the rest of him; lips wrapping around the head, sucking with his cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling on it and flicking on all the right places, drawing earnest grunts from Seonghwa like it’s nothing. And it really is nothing for someone looking so  _ good  _ on his knees, with his mouth on cock like it’s his favorite thing to do, and Seonghwa thinks that it may be, because he swears he feels Yeosang’s body jerk when he grabs him from the hair, slowly pushing him down his cock, growing greedy to feel more of his mouth on him. He takes it well, so deliciously well, tongue flat and head relaxed under Seonghwa’s hold, jaw unclenched, letting Seonghwa do whatever he wants with him, looking up at his eyes so lewdly Seonghwa barely holds himself from coming right then and there, too early for comfort. 

Yeosang lets him fuck his mouth like this, getting pushed and pulled from his messy, pink hair, spit dripping from the corners of his mouth to his chin; but he moans against Seonghwa’s cock eagerly, in pleasure, like being manhandled by him is the only thing that will get him off. Seonghwa just fucking feels ecstatic, biting on his own lip to keep his voice inside as his eyes are stuck on Yeosang, not wanting to miss even a moment of the boy giving himself to him like this. 

He stops only when Yeosang brings his hands up again, on Seonghwa’s thighs, a signal that he wants to take over, suck Seonghwa off like he deserves some more before he gets too close; Seonghwa could feel his dick twitching in his mouth and Yeosang must have felt that too. He grins, diving in to kiss and suck on Seonghwa’s hips once, twice, hand around Seonghwa’s length, tugging slowly. 

“Yeosang- that’s...not now,” he hates Yeosang for being such a tease, or at least that’s what he tells himself right now, when he wants to come desperately and Yeosang is keeping him from it for mere seconds. On another time, he would absolutely love being the victim of Yeosang’s endless teasing. But now, he pulls him by the hair again, Yeosang licking his lips before he licks on his cock again. 

It doesn’t take long; Yeosang’s hands on his balls and cock, fondling and jerking him off, along with his mouth lapping sloppily where he really needs have him writhing, nails digging in both the armrests of the armchair in order to keep his cool, but in vain, because in seconds he has them both in Yeosang’s hair, pushing his head on his cock as he comes on the boy’s tongue, hot cum pooling in his mouth as the warmth in the pit of his stomach subsides. 

“God, Yeosang, I’m sorry…” he mumbles between his panting, hands cradling Yeosang’s cheeks, worried eyes on him. “I should have warned y-” he tries to say, before his eyes fall on Yeosang’s tongue, sticking out of his mouth deliberately, Yeosang looking up at Seonghwa knowingly with the most lustful look he has  _ ever  _ seen, wanting him to stare as he is swallowing Seonghwa’s entire load with one gulp, tongue sticking out again to purely show how  _ well  _ he did. If Seonghwa lost it, that’s only for him to know. Even when it was written all over his face, Yeosang entirely proud of himself for that, because  _ he  _ did it, and he will bask on it. 

Only when Yeosang climbs on his lap again, significantly more fucked out that before, Seonghwa realises that he’s still hard, even harder than before, still untouched. Yeosang doesn’t let it faze him, taking Seonghwa’s hands in his and putting them right on his ass, squeezing them both so Seonghwa can feel him up like he wants to. 

“Don’t touch me, I wanna come like this,” he mumbles next to Seonghwa’s ear as he starts grinding on his thigh, his clothed cock rubbing on Seonghwa’s skin, back arching so obscenely that it has Seonghwa staring, hands losing their grip. “Guide me, hyung. Watch me.” 

And he does, of course he does, pushing his palms under Yeosang’s underwear to feel his bare ass, keeping them there and helping him roll his hips, helping him ride his tensed up thigh until he comes, Yeosang’s forehead on Seonghwa’s shoulder, lips parted as little mewls escape him while his orgasm comes in waves, making a mess of his underwear. His body only falls limp on him when he has ridden his high away, Seonghwa kissing the messy top of his head (he created the mess, honestly, he made this bed and he will gladly sleep in it) and rubbing soothing circles on the small of his back now, wanting Yeosang to come back from it all. Now that the high is wearing off from both of them, the weight of their actions is coming back and Seonghwa doesn’t really know how to handle it. He still, after all this, doesn’t know what Yeosang wants from him.

“Seonghwa-hyung stop overthinking,” Yeosang chuckles, amused, “I can  _ hear  _ you thinking.” 

“Sorry, Yeosangie,” he smiles and cards his fingers in Yeosang’s hair, petting. “Couldn’t really help it.” 

Yeosang lifts his head from Seonghwa’s shoulder, bringing his hands up to cup Seonghwa’s face this time, pressing his nose on his, until Seonghwa is wide eyed and expectant. 

“I’ve done dumb shit, and, I’m not drunk now. At all. Can you see?”

Well, it was kinda hard to see, per se, Seonghwa would argue. But now he nods.

“Good. Do you need me to make it clear for you?”

He nods again. He really, really,  _ really  _ wants Yeosang to say it. 

“For real? Can’t you see it already?” Yeosang frowns a bit, and Seonghwa wants nothing more than to eat him whole. A single bite. 

“Nope. Say it for me?” 

Yeosang just shakes his head in defeat, then, but he doesn’t leave his face as he gives Seonghwa's lips a peck at a time, between every word. 

“I like you, hyung,” he rubs his nose on Seonghwa’s then, and Seonghwa giggles, but then Yeosang headbutts him and the giggle stops, a frown replacing it. 

“That’s what you get for being dense. And greedy. You don’t get to be both,” he says before he lets him go, messily moving out of his hold and on his legs, wobbly from the too much kneeling but still so, so pretty to Seonghwa. He gives him a hand and lifts Seonghwa up as well, grinning to himself before he gets on his feet again, like he did when he asked him to dance, some hours ago. 

“Take me inside,” Yeosang demands, and Seonghwa does it, his mind dwelling on the thought that, after all, he would tiptoe around Yeosang for days and days more, if he were to end up walking along with him like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, find me @yeekiies on twt. no, please. find me. be my moots. i'll be good.


End file.
